At Least I'm Not Alone
by lebanesetoaster
Summary: Aftermath of Pear Harbor. Rachel's point of view. Prompt submitted on tumblr by sundust17: Rachel/Quinn, AU fic - nurses during WWII.


_I'm finally sitting down after… God, I don't even know. Hours? Days? I've seen more blood than I thought could exist, from more bodies than we knew what to do with. The… I don't… we've…_

_I don't know. I don't know how to do this. I can't even think straight, let alone speak. I just… I want to sleep forever, but then I hate myself for thinking those words. We've lost so many men. It's like they slipped between my fingers, like someone asked me to hold the ocean for them._

_I couldn't._

_All the gauze and all the pressure in the world couldn't keep their insides in. And the burns… We tried. I tried. Some of them will live. But the number of lives that slipped through my fingers today… I don't think I'll ever get over that._

_I hear a dull thud. I'm so tired that I didn't even realize I'd let my head fall back against the wall until I heard the sound of my skull meeting the plaster. A face drifts across the surface of my thoughts. Another nurse. I hadn't seen her before today. I would have remembered her._

_Maybe today was her first day, or maybe she'd just been transferred to my ward. I don't remember. I can't remember all the way to before—not right now. I can't see to the other side yet. I don't think I remember how. But… she kept looking at me. Since it started, she kept looking._

_I had run in, directing a man carrying his best friend in his arms. I showed him where to put the man… the boy… god, he was so young. I thought he had a chance. The boy grabbed my hand in both of his, and he pleaded with me, he held so tight, and then… I don't even know what was wrong exactly, and before I could find out, his hands went limp and fell from mine, and I felt for a pulse and found nothing._

_I looked around for a doctor, but there was so much chaos… no one could help me. We couldn't save him. She looked up from her own patient across the room and caught my eye… she looked how I felt. Terrified and on the verge of breaking. But she had fire in her eyes, like nothing could stop her from helping these boys. I saw her take a deep breath, and she gave me a sharp nod, her eyes locked with mine. She was telling me that I could do this—that we could both do this—that we would get through it._

_I turned back to the boy's friend and I told him I was sorry. I wanted to stay with him, but I knew I couldn't. There were more wounded than nurses and doctors, and I knew I had to move on._

_I don't know when I let my eyes drift closed, but I open them, reminding myself that I can't sleep yet. The mad rush may have mellowed, but the hospital still had more patients than beds. I can't stop yet._

_I sit up straight and turn my head from side to side, trying to loosen the tension, but it's no use. I slump back in the chair once again. I think the adrenaline is finally wearing off. I'm not sure that's a good thing._

_I see her again, that friendly face in the crowd. She pushes sticky blonde hair from her face in a way that speaks volumes in terms of exhaustion, and smiles warily at me. I wonder if I've forgotten how to breathe. She collapses into the chair next to mine and lets out the longest, shakiest breath. It sounds like she's been holding it all day._

_We're both burnt out. I still don't know her name, but right now I don't care. Today isn't a day for names. We survived the day, and that's what's important. Was it only one day? I'm still not sure. The night could have come and gone without my noticing._

_She lets her body slip sideways in the chair till her arm is pressed up against mine, and she rests her head softly on my shoulder. She lets out another shaky breath and I realize she's crying. Barely though. I can feel her tears against my shoulder. It's like all of the despair of the day is washing over her, and slipping out, tracking tears down her face, through the smears of dried blood and grime._

_I reach my hand under the armrest, towards her upturned palm. Any other day I would have hesitated, but today was not a day for hesitation. I let my fingers ghost over her palm till they meet the spaces between her fingers. Am I dreaming this? Before I get the chance, she's already fitted our hands together and is squeezing my hand so tightly that my fingers hurt. I squeeze back with all of the strength I have left and I rest my cheek against her hair._

_I feel a hot tear rolling down my face. I didn't even realize I was crying. I thought… I don't know what I thought. Maybe I thought I was okay, but that's a lie, because no one is okay today. How could we be?_

_At least I'm not alone._

_I close my eyes._

_Her hand is still clinging to mine, and her head is still on my shoulder. And… the world is still a mess. There are still too many lives lost. We still have more questions than answers. But… somehow, in this moment, the sweet smell of her shampoo cuts through the sharp metallic odor of blood and disinfectant… maybe we'll be okay._

_At least I'm not alone._


End file.
